Chapter 9: Awakenings

Awakening from our dreams
brings us another step closer to realizing them.

A Fool's Book of Wisdom

Christine hurriedly sat up from the unladylike slouch in which she found herself when she awoke. Her hands immediately moved to smooth her skirts and then patted at her hair in a vain attempt to bring order to her unruly locks.

Erik, too, sat up quickly. His hands flew up to his face, his shoulders rigid. His entire body relaxed as soon as his fingers touched the stiff surface of his mask. He adjusted its position and sighed. Suddenly, his head tilted down and he hissed. Helen and Christine turned questioning eyes towards him, only to see a twirl of black envelop his form within the folds of his cloak. He seemed to glare at the women, silently daring them to question him. Helen, used to his strange ways, shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Christine. The young woman stared at him for a moment, but he would not meet her eyes. With a slight frown, Christine drew upon the acting skills her father taught her and cleared from her face the signs of hurt Erik's action caused her. Although, inside she seethed over his apparent rejection of her and her cheeks flooded with color.

"Wonderful! He is going to act stupid again! He is a grown man and still acts as a foolish boy! After the way he touched me, how can he act so cold towards me? Does he not remember?"

She paused and licked her lips.

"Perhaps, he remembers, but believes our visits are no more than dreams.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"If that is the case, he is the most intelligent fool I shall ever meet!"

As she often did at times when she was upset, Christine unconsciously began to hum. She turned her eyes to stare unseeingly out the window at the passing countryside and without realizing it, her mouth opened and the words of the song slipped past her lips. At first, the sound of her voice was no more than an almost imperceptible impression of song, but quickly grew into a quiet vocalization of joy as the young woman allowed the music to sweep through her being. She reveled in the sweet emotions she felt while in the embrace of the music, but in her secret heart she wished it were the young man's strong arms holding her.

Erik continued to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"It is bad enough to fall asleep and have an erotic dream about Christine, but then, when I awake, to find the evidence standing visible for all to see that is quite ... embarrassing ... humiliating ... disgusting ... It is no wonder that she sits there, frowning at me. She must think that I am a depraved beast. Thankfully, she has no idea what caused my arousal. I am certain that if she knew she was the reason for my tumescence, she would not only refuse to continue traveling with Helen and me, but my face would have received a rather resounding slap."

He continued his surreptitious adjustment of his aroused manhood. All the while attempting to keep Christine in his line of sight.

"The last thing I need is for her to think that I am committing some sort of perversion while I look at her. Why does she keep staring at me? I would almost swear that the last glimpse I caught of her, it seemed I saw her eyes leveled at my member. And, now her cheeks are so red that they almost glow. Could it be that she does not find me disgusting?"

He took a deep breath, releasing the tension from his body as he exhaled. With a well-seasoned control taught to him by Helen, Erik cleared all thought from his mind. He replayed every moment he spent in Christine's presence, from his first glimpse of her shadowed form exiting her quarters to the sight of her currently scarlet cheeks and impassive eyes. He searched through the memories, freezing a look, an expression, a touch, but nowhere could he find one that provided him with evidence of her fear or loathing. Indeed, the closer Erik examined his brief acquaintance with Christine, the more confused he became.

"She shows absolutely no signs of fear or loathing towards me. And, not only does she not attempt to avoid my touch, she has gone out of her way to initiate physical contact with me. There is something else ... I feel as if there is something else that I need to remember."

The nagging thought tickled at the corner of the man's awareness, but it remained just beyond his grasp. Just as he began to despair, a sound touched his soul and brought him out of his introspective state.

"My God! She is singing and the song is the same one she sang in my dream. Could it be that the dream is not mine, but ours? After living with Helen all of these years, I have seen stranger things. Oh! If this sharing of dreams could only be true, my heart would soar to the heavens with joy! How can I know? How shall I ascertain the truth of this thought? Dare I ask her? Oh, Lord! I cannot!"

As he remembered the fervent kisses and the burning, passionate caresses they shared, his face grew hot. His body grew hard once more and he trembled. He felt shame at the almost overpowering lust his body felt as he remembered the soft curves of her body and the jutting points of her nipples. Then a thought struck him and left him breathlessly reeling in shock.

"She is the one that kissed me. What does that mean? Does it mean anything or nothing at all? It must mean something. I do not believe that Christine would grant her favors on someone that meant nothing to her. She is not a wanton strumpet. Perhaps, she only allowed herself to kiss me because she thought herself safe in a dream. After all, dreams are not real. Well, not most of the time, anyway."

He almost chuckled.

"I must speak in private with Helen about this. She needs to know that I may share a bond with her niece. Hmmm ... when was the first time I dreamed of Christine?"

His body gave an involuntary jerk as the likelihood of their first meeting being a coincidence vanished and his mind began its awakening to all of the possibilities this memory implied.